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Poem

Here from the ledge
looking into the liquid silence
across the abyss of time
the eye for detail is sharply seen
clear from this plateau, 
giving new edge
to a life spanning out
flat, as a cord
where the view is worn
but, tautly keen with insight

Spliced are the wires that stretch out below me
according to colors
red joined to red
blue joined to blue
some which have tangled
mixing the hues
changing the views
from where I once stood
wedged deep in the canyons
looking up

Into two directions,
we reached for the sun 
flapping our wings
running from truth
swimming with fear
the closer we veered

A view of the ordinary
became the exception
my eyes ever arching
to reach for the stars
by far, without reason
while seasons were passing
and strange as it seems
I learned to stop grasping
for what was unreasonable
I learned to grab on, holding on tight
to that which had meaning
than ever before
 
Here from the ledge
looking into the dust
across the abyss 
of time that has passed
My eye for detail is honed sharp and keen 
seen from the years, 
giving new edge
to a life spanning out
flat, as a cord
where the view may be worn
but, sought.... 
          perhaps taut........
                  with new insight




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